April Intellects
by Shavynel
Summary: April isn't just for fools.


"Snoddy!"

"At least they know you took it," I said to Snitch, completely ignoring the fact someone else wanted my attention. Snitch and I were not the type of people to hold intelligent conversations, but somehow we had arrived at a rather interesting argument. Which is worse: stealing something you need or "borrowing" and never return something you wanted?

"Snoddy!" Once again, the call did not register, but Snitch's reply did.

"It's not like you need it."

I opened my mouth to respond, but instead of words, a grunt came out. Swifty's elbow had shoved me off balance.

"What?" I snapped. This was the first time anyone managed to interrupt the conversation successfully. At first, the others left us alone, amused by the fact Snitch and I were capable of holding a semi-intelligent conversation, but they soon were annoyed because neither of us would respond to anything. The younger ones had turned it into a game, trying to see who could get us to stop talking. As a result, there had been a number of thievery attempts. Snitch managed to keep everything he owned with him, but someone had stolen my hat and probably a few other things.

"Well, I thought you might like your hat back, and your money, and your spare socks, and…" Swifty paused for effect and drew something out of his pocket dramatically, "…Oh yes. This." I barely had my hands on the four things when Swifty bounded off to catch up with some others.

"I think that you're just saying it's worse to steal because you're obviously incapable keeping others from stealing the things _you _need," Snitch said, continuing the conversation while also teasing me.

"I'd like to call it borrowing without leave," I replied, "I knew they were taking it."

Snitch snorted. "That's why you did that strange dance trying to get Tumbler."

"That was Tumbler, was it?" I frowned and looked around for the little one. As it were, he, along with most of the younger boys, was with Swifty. They kept darted back glances at me. Half of them were laughing, and not one had a solemn face.

"Yah. Tumbler got the hat. I could tell you who stole your coins too."

I glared at Snitch, annoyed by his keen observation skills, and shoved the hat back on my head. The money and the socks were shoved carelessly into my pockets, but I kept oh-yes-this out. I still hadn't figured out what it was.

"I could also tell you that Swifty's up to something."

"Swifty's always up to something," I replied in an offhand manner, preoccupied with examining the mystery object. It was a square piece of cloth and was somewhat rough, but in a way that made me suspect it wasn't meant to be. There was also some green-yellow stuff—ew. I made a face. Snitch laughed.

"He also mentioned something about spare socks," Snitch informed me, and though I wasn't about to admit it, I hadn't been paying attention when Swifty had said that. If it weren't for Snitch, I probably would have carried the socks in my pocket all day, or at least until the next time I stuck my hand in my pocket. "And I'm going to go find Itey and Jake so that Swifty can't blame me for whatever plan you come up with for getting him back."

"Yah, sure, leave me in my misery." He just patted my shoulder encouragingly before finding the other newsies. I pulled out the things Swifty had handed me. I still had fifty cents, but now I had five dimes instead of two quarters. And there were socks as well as a few things I know weren't there before: pebbles, a cork, and a mouse trap. Fortunately, the trap had sprung before I tried to take it out. Unfortunately, it had sprung and caught the inside of my pocket, which made it interesting to remove.

I shook my head, amazed at the ingenuity of the pranks. Then, I realized the mastermind behind the young messengers was Swifty, who had been on the receiving end of quite a few creative pranks as well as some nastier ones.

With a plan in mind, I put a little more power into my stride and caught up with Swifty and his group of boys. I figured he had a few devious acts up his sleeve, but before he could strike again, I shoved the handkerchief down the back of his shirt and gave him a hearty pat.

"You know, I wash my handkerchiefs when they get dirty," I greeted cheerfully. Swifty's response was priceless. He made a horrified face at me and started wiggling, trying to get the handkerchief out. The next step would be to get those socks, which were filthier than the filthiest piece of unwashed laundry at the Lodging House, in his face. Then again, I'm not sure they were socks.

He finally danced the handkerchief out of his shirt. "I also don't keep old socks with me." My arm drew back to launch the socks at him, but stopped when Swifty motioned not to. He pointed off into the distance, and my eyes followed.

Darn Swifty and his timing. It was the nuns, and I wasn't about to throw socks in front of them. The other newsies had already tugged off their hats, and the younger ones were shuffling toward the cart, eager to receive food.

"April Fool's," he said. I gave him a sidelong glance of suspicions and found myself looking at an overly mischievous face. "You've got to be more observant on a day like this."

"I'll get you back," I promised.

* * *

_Author's Note: About two weeks ago, I tried to write a fanfic about Patrick. I meant to start with the nuns, but as you have read, that did not happen. I did not mean for Snitch to appear, but he did. I ended up with this, which is obviously not a Patrick fic. shrugs Oh well._


End file.
